In the Airway
by SnowyPicture
Summary: Lance gets an internship abroad and Keith sees him off.


_The Airway_

Lance turned around, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He straightened his shoulders and rolled out the kinks before shaking out his arms.

"Well," he said, grinning. "Workout for the day, complete."

Keith peered back at him, not looking particularly impressed.

"Hey," Lance said, grin folding into a scowl. "Do you know how much weight I just lifted? And carried through half this airport?"

"Yeah, ten pounds over the weight fee," Keith said, and dumped Lance's carry-on back into his arms. "I can't believe you actually paid it." He caught Lance's eye, lip quirking upward.

"Hey, I need all that stuff," Lance said, looping his arms through the straps of his backpack. They wound their way out of the check-in lines, darting around business travelers and families overleaded with bags, backpacking couples and little children with tiny, colorful suitcases.

Keith made a small noise that said he's seen what Lance had packed and didn't quite agree. Lance rolled his eyes and slid his hand into Keith's. "Just because you like to think all _your_ worldly possessions could be folded into a napkin…"

Keith didn't say anything, but Lance caught the edge of a smile as he slid his eyes sideways to gauge the reaction on his boyfriend's face. Keith squeezed his fingers slightly, and Lance hummed.

His entire body was humming, with pleasure and excitement and nerves, and had been for weeks as the days leading up to his flight dwindled. After a rigorous process that included too much caffeine and too little sleep and stress to the point of near mental breakdowns – sweat and tears and _blood-_ he had gotten his dream internship.

A six month program doing astrophysics research in Iceland.

Okay, so the blood had been a papercut, but it had _stung_ and he'd gotten blood all over his official paperwork _after_ he'd filled it all out, and his eyes were beginning to burn and his chest was caving in on itself and his breaths were coming short. It would have been a Very Bad Moment if Keith hadn't walked through the door from class, taken one look at Lance, another at the paperwork, dropped his bookbag to the floor and stepped forward to take Lance's bleeding hand into his own.

Silently, gently, Keith had cleaned him up, bandaged his finger, put some on some water to boil, reprinted the paperwork from Lance's email, made Lance some tea with honey how he liked, and started refilling the paperwork out himself. They'd finished it together in a third of the time it took Lance to do it in the first place, and Lance had kissed Keith soundly into his pillow that night, impossibly grateful.

Lance had said his goodbyes to Allura and Shiro the night before and Pidge and Hunk earlier that morning ("Don't you _dare_ cry, Hunk, because if you do I will!" (They both cried and even Pidge got misty behind her glasses and wouldn't let Lance go when he hugged her)).

His last hours, he saved for Keith.

They'd gotten here purposely early. Lance's flight wasn't for another two and a half hours, and though the airport was busy, Lance couldn't stand the thought of waiting on the other side of security when he _could_ be spending as much time as possible with Keith before he left him for six whole months.

It was unfortunate that all the good restaurants were past security, but Lance spotted a Starbucks kiosk up ahead. "Hey," he said, tugging on Keith's hand, "let me buy you something."

Keith, jostled out of some far-away thought, caught sight of the Starbucks. "Lance, you should save your money-"

"Keith, this American cash is going to burn a hole in my pocket for the next six months, let me buy you an overly priced, overly sweetened caffeinated drink because it'll make me happy, okay?"

Keith snorted. "It tastes better sweet."

"Sure, sure," Lance said, waving a hand. He'd accepted by now that Keith was probably going to rot his teeth out by the time he was thirty.

He got Keith a chai, his favorite, and for himself he got a decaf iced coconut milk mocha macchiato. Lance didn't want to be wired more than he already was, trapped on a plane for hours and hours.

"Thanks," Keith said, wrapping his hands around his hot cup and smiling at Lance over the lid. He had his fingerless gloves on, the ones Lance liked to tease him about but actually found ridiculously hot and Keith knew it. Lance felt his heart thump painfully in his chest at the sight of him like this. This would be their last coffee date for six months.

He shrugged the thought away. He wasn't going to be sad and mopey _with_ Keith when he'd inevitably be sad and mopey _without_ him the moment he walked through security.

Instead, he took a long sip of his drink, then pressed a kiss to Keith's lips because he really needed to make the most of his mouth while it was still there.

Keith made a face. "You complain about _my_ taste in drinks?"

Whatever, so Lance would probably need new teeth by the time he was thirty, too. He took another long sip of his drink, looking Keith dead in the eyes. Keith stared back at him for several long seconds.

Finally, cracking, Keith broke into a laugh and shoved him in the shoulder, pushing past him to lead the way from the kiosk.

They walked, looking for a place to sit, and Lance began to prattle. He was too nervous, too excited, and silence felt wasted when this was the last time he'd get to talk to Keith in person for half a year.

"Do you think I should get more snacks?" he asked Keith as they passed a tiny convenience store. "I mean, I already have some, but what if I get really hungry and run out? I can't last on plane food, Keith, I'm not even fully convinced that it _is_ food, and what if I get, like, food poisoning? Do you know how awful that would be? To arrive in a new country puking my guts out?"

"I don't think you're going to get food poisoning, Lance," Keith said.

"You don't know that, Keith."

"I'm pretty sure you'll make it just fine."

"Oh yeah? And what if I'm _starving,_ and the flight attendant's like, 'Hey, would you like our broiled lamb?' and I have no choice but to say yes, even though I hate the thought of eating baby sheep anyway, but I have to because _you_ said I'd be fine and I didn't buy more snacks, and so I eat it, and then-"

"Broiled lamb? Have you been upgraded to first class in this fantasy?" Keith glanced at him with raised eyebrows.

"Uh, obviously. Anyway, I think that settles it. I need more snacks."

They went into the convenience store and Lance bought a package of gummy bears.

"That'll really hold you over," Keith said dryly.

"Wow, okay, thanks for the input, _Hunk_ ," said Lance, immediately opening the bag and popping a red one into his mouth. He held the bag out to Keith, who took a few.

Lance glanced at his watch. They had about an hour. It was a lot of time, and it was no time at all. Lance suddenly felt that he'd wasted the last twenty minutes talking too much about _snacks,_ and spent not enough time holding Keith's hand or kissing his lips or being _nearly_ close enough to him when in just a few hours they'd be an ocean apart.

"Hey, let's sit here," Lance said, grabbing Keith's hand and pulling him over to a set of tall windows. Other travelers rested against them, sitting on suitcases and jackets, eating or sleeping and using their phones.

The sun was bright through the window, glinting off of the tiled floor and glass screens and metal zippers on suitcases. Keith's hair appeared sleek and shiny and soft in the light. Lance wanted to touch it. He did.

"What are you doing?" Keith said, but he didn't pull away. If anything, he leaned slightly into Lance's touch. His hands were still wrapped around his chai, and he was chewing slowly on a gummy bear. Lance had already finished his drink.

"I'll miss your hair," Lance said without thinking.

Keith's expression flickered, just for a moment, and he chewed more slowly on his gummy bear before swallowing. He didn't move away from Lance's touch, and Lance brushed his long bangs from his eyes, fingers trailing from roots to ends. His hair felt as soft as it looked.

Lance felt a lump rise in his throat. But no, it was too _soon_ for that.

Keith's hands were still around his cup, and he was looking down at the lid, quiet. Lance wanted to know what he was thinking.

They'd only been together for just over a year. They'd moved in together at the start of the school year, their last. They'd just graduated, and Keith was keeping the apartment while Lance was away, but Lance wasn't sure where they'd be by the time he got back around Christmas. What if Keith got a job somewhere else? What if _Lance_ got a job somewhere else?

These thoughts terrified Lance. He and Keith had found comfort in the fact that his internship was a temporary gig, but…what if it led to something else?

Where would it lead _them_?

Lance had always had his dreams, he knew what he wanted to study by the time he got to college, what kind of job he'd like, and how much he'd have to work for it, but he never could have planned on Keith. He never planned on coming out of college with a degree and a boyfriend, one that he loved so much it almost scared him.

Lance repositioned himself so that he was sitting directly beside Keith, arm to arm, backs to the window. Keith's fingers began to grow jittery around his cup.

"Keith?"

Keith looked up at him, the sides of his eyes catching the sunlight. They were a deep, dark blue that Lance had never seen on anyone else, and, as far as Lance was concerned, the most beautiful shade of blue there was. He'd been entranced by his eyes ever since the first time he saw them. In the light, they almost glittered.

Keith wasn't nearly as verbal about his thoughts and feelings as Lance was, but Lance recognized the look in his eyes. It was one that had been rare at first, hardly making itself known as Lance began looking into the prospect of this far-away internship, and then applying for it. It was only really after Lance had gotten it, once the days to his departure started seriously growing near, did Lance catch glimpses of it more often. It appeared when Keith was quiet, or thought Lance wasn't looking, or when one of their friends brought up the fact that Lance would be gone for so long, so far away, and that he better not forget any of them here.

Lance reached over and took one of Keith's hands from his cup and slid their fingers together. Lance watched Keith look down at their hands. Lance's brown fingers against his pale ones, Lance's palm against his dark glove.

"So when I said I'd miss your hair," Lance said, "I hope you realized that means I'll miss _you_. All of you."

Keith looked back at Lance's face, his lips tilting upward. "Yeah, I think I got that."

"Good," said Lance. He held out his bag of gummy bears. "Want some more?"

Keith let out a soft laugh and took some more. They made their way through the bag and Keith slowly but surely made his way through the rest of his drink, talking, just about small things, about the book Keith was currently reading, about some new music Lance had just discovered, about the cookies Hunk had made last week, about the television show they'd been watching together for weeks and had finished only two days before.

Keith had slid down the window so that he could rest his head on Lance's shoulder. Their hands were tucked snuggly between them, and Lance had laid his head on top of Keith's, hair soft on his cheek. Lance could feel the hourglass emptying, but he didn't want to move.

"Hey Lance?" Keith said after a long moment of quiet.

"Yeah?"

There was a little clock halfway down the hall. They could both see it, and they both knew it.

Keith paused. "I think you should probably go to catch your flight soon."

Lance paused a moment longer. "I know."

Neither of them moved.

Finally Keith took the initiative, but he only managed to turn his head and press his face into Lance's neck. "I don't want you to miss it," he said, softly, into his skin.

Lance felt the lump rise in his throat again. His heart began to thud heavily in his chest. He didn't want to move. He didn't want to leave Keith, warm and soft beside him.

Keith lifted his head so that Lance could see his eyes, setting down his empty Starbucks cup on the floor and lifting his hand to Lance's cheek. Gently, he turned Lance's face toward him and looked at him, just for a moment, before pressing a kiss to his lips.

Lance could feel tears prickling his eyes when Keith pulled away.

Keith took a breath, then pushed himself up to his feet and held out a hand to Lance. Keith's hair was messy where it'd been on Lance's shoulder and his eyes had that _look_ in them, but there was a crooked smile on his lips, his hand waiting.

Lance took it. Keith gathered up his cup and the gummy bear wrapper to throw away and Lance put his backpack on. They wound their way through people and travelers until they were standing at the entrance to the roped off area that held the security line.

Lance looked at the people presenting their plane tickets and their passports.

It was real. It had always been real. But suddenly the fact that he was leaving, going to live in _Iceland_ for six months, where he knew no one, or anything – he didn't speak Icelandic! – was very, _very_ real.

He looked around at Keith, feeling unraveled all of the sudden. "Keith-"

He didn't know what he was going to say. _What the heck am I doing? Please, take me home, I've changed my mind? I can't do this?_

But Keith seemed to know already know.

He cupped Lance's face in his hands, looking into Lance's eyes, very determined and sure.

"Lance," he said. "You're going to do great. You're incredibly smart, you're incredibly hard working, and I've never been prouder of anyone in my life. You got that?"

Lance felt his breath coming in short bursts, but he nodded. Keith's eyes softened, and his thumbs grazed the soft skin beneath Lance's eyes.

"And if you need me, I'm just a text away," he said. "A Skype call. Facetime. A paper letter, whatever."

Lance laughed, and he felt tears pool around the corners of his eyes. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Keith's. "Same goes for you."

He felt Keith actually relax against him at those words, as if he ever had to worry about that, and even though people were rushing around them, Lance closed his eyes, feeling as if they were the only two people here, trying to preserve the feeling of Keith's skin, his gloves, his warmth, his smell, the sound of his voice.

"I'll miss you, Lance. I love you."

Lance's vision clouded. "I love you, too."

Keith brushed away the tears with his thumbs, looking into Lance's wet eyes, his own gaze burning and determined and proud. Lance tried to take a mental picture of that face to bring with him. Then Keith kissed Lance, long and thorough. Lance nearly melted into the floor.

They stayed like that, against each other, for just a moment longer before Keith pulled away. He let go of Lance's face. "I'll be here when you get back, okay?"

Lance nodded, feeling much better, much more grounded despite the fact that he would soon be in the air. The ache in his chest was painful, but manageable, and he smiled. "Thanks."

Keith shrugged and smiled back, and he took another step away as if he might actually leave before Lance had even entered the security line.

Lance's heart jolted, reaching out. But abruptly Keith stopped, hands folding into fists at his sides. That quiet look in his eyes had risen to the surface, even amidst his determination for Lance.

"I-" Keith started, and broke off, hesitating. "I'll miss being in the same place, though." He said it as if he couldn't help it, like it was just a small thing compared to everything else, but he needed it to be known.

Lance felt himself smile, sadness a cloud around his heart, but something new beating within it as he realized how impossibly happy he was to have this kind of love. That he had it to take with him and to come back to. It meant everything to him.

Unable to help himself, he stepped forward, right onto the tips of Keith's shoes. "But we are in the same place," he said.

Keith's eyes cleared slightly.

Lance planted a kiss on his forehead.

"And I'll come back to it, I promise, I don't care how much it hurts your toes," Lance said, and winked. Keith rolled his eyes, but he was smiling, looking relieved and a bit like everything Lance was feeling in himself.

Lance stepped off Keith's feet, and Keith kissed him one more time on the mouth, and then Lance was waving to him from the other side of security.

Lance squared his shoulders to walk to his gate, and Keith was gone.

They'd get to where they wanted to be, he thought to himself as he made it to his gate just as the plane was beginning to board, his passport and ticket (and a new bag of gummy bears) in hand. This _was_ where they wanted to be, a stop on a path they were leading themselves down.

And their goodbye had been _very_ movie-worthy, he thought with satisfaction.

Lance only felt slightly jittery and mostly excited as he boarded the plane and found his seat. Biting his lip, he checked his phone one last time before he put it on airplane mode. There was a text.

 _Have fun and don't eat the lamb._

Lance grinned.


End file.
